Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“I thought as much.” Dmitri hung up, leaving turmoil in his wake.
Sloan wasted no time, turning in the seat to face him completely. “Please tell me that wasn’t Dmitri Romanov.”
“It was Dmitri Romanov.” There was no point in lying to her. Either she’d be able to handle everything or she wouldn’t. It was better to know now than…What? He wasn’t letting her go. He damn well knew it. She’d come into his life with her quiet strength and now everything he thought he knew was gone. It didn’t make a single fucking bit of sense, but he was actually considering throwing everything he’d spent his entire life working for out the window if it meant keeping her safe.
More than considering it. He was damn near planning on it.
She smoothed her hair back, her hands only now shaking. What did it say about Sloan that she could face down certain death by shotgun and be relatively unaffected but that Russian bastard flustered her calm? That she’s a smart fucking woman. Sloan took a deep breath, and he could almost see her counting to three before she released it. “Any kind of alliance with that man is out of the question.”
“I don’t remember putting you in charge of this operation.”
“Well, you should if you’re stupid enough to think that man won’t stab you in the back the first chance he gets.” Her voice shook and she made a visible effort to calm it. “He’s a snake. Worse than a snake. He’s not to be trusted.”
“I don’t trust him.” Especially considering the threat currently hanging over his head.
“I don’t…” Her breath hitched again. “I’m scared, Jude.”
“I’ll take care of you, sunshine.” He just had to figure out how the hell he was going to pull that off without signing a death warrant for both of them.
* * *
“You’re sure.”
Liam sat behind the wheel of the sedan, his face unreadable in the neon light from the bar across the street. “As sure as I can be. She’s John Finch’s daughter—his only kid. It took some digging because she disappeared off the face of the earth four years ago.”
Aiden studied the place. It looked like a thousand dive bars across the country—filthy and unassuming. The kind of place bikers and people up to no good would congregate. “There’s more.”
Liam nodded. “Charlotte Finch used to be a cop. She was a bright shining star of the NYPD and moving up the ranks pretty damn quickly—until she was accused of being a dirty cop and thrown off the force. There wasn’t an official trial for some reason, but right after that she disappeared. Two years later, Charlie Moreaux shows up in this shitty little bar in New York City, running high-stakes poker in the back room.”
“Was she dirty?” If she was, it would have broken her dear father’s heart—and she’d be useless to him, because John Finch seemed the type to cut ties if he thought his daughter was on the wrong side of the law.
Aiden flipped through the file Liam handed him, raising his brows at the list of her accomplishments. She hadn’t just been a cop—she’d been a good cop. Beneath that sheet was a short report about her time in the academy. Good grades, one hell of a shot, and adored by both her instructors and peers. Must have been quite the kick in the teeth to have them turn on you at the flip of a coin.
“She’s not dirty.” Liam hesitated. “Though I can’t be sure without more info. But if I were a betting man, I’d say that Charlotte stumbled onto something she shouldn’t have and paid the price. Her former partner got a promotion. And there’s this.” He passed over a photo.
Aiden studied the two men. One he knew far better than he’d like to. Dark hair, lean build, predatory gaze—Romanov. The other…“This is her partner?”
“Yeah.”
Which meant it was possible—probable even—that Romanov had some of New York’s finest on his payroll and, when the starry-eyed golden girl had found out and refused to fall in line, he’d had her discredited.
It’s what Aiden would have done.
Killing cops was bad for business. It was easier to have the ones who wouldn’t take bribes framed and removed, since there was little that honorable cops hated more than finding out one of their own was dirty. No one would believe what a dirty cop said, and no one was going to be forming a posse to avenge them. It was a nice bloodless way to tie up loose ends.
I bet John Finch just loved that shit. “She still have contact with her father?”
“Hard to say. He spoke out in her defense at first, but after she left the force, he shut the hell up.”
Aiden considered what he knew of John Finch. It was quite a bit these days. The man was from a long line of cops who firmly believed that the ends justified the means. He hadn’t flinched at using Teague to further his investigation, and gave no regard to what the O’Malleys—or Sheridans or Hallorans, for that matter—would do to him if they found out he was a rat. They would have killed his brother—worse than killed him.